


Wait Five Years

by artyamba



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Near Future, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 06:17:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13630401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artyamba/pseuds/artyamba
Summary: Kara gets a visit from a very nervous Alura, who claims to be her daughter. This is set in current time, during the Hiatus.





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: By the way, I am your daughter.

Will write another chapter if requested (please bear with me, I’m used to writing in academic format, so it’s all over the place).

 

Alura had prepared herself for this moment. Well, she had tried to at least.

It had involved some precarious personal grooming on her part, including untangling a particularly bad hair day. That was one of the worst side-effects of time travel, she thought.

At least the nausea was easy to clean up.

Standing in front of Kara Danvers door was a sensation Alura never thought she would experience. She could almost see through it, imagining Supergirl completing mundane tasks in her pyjamas – or singing in the shower.

She scratched the blistered skin on her forearm, causing a flurry of pasty white flakes. Another side-effect on her list of time travel-related problems. But it was a necessary evil and she wasn’t here, in 2018, without a purpose.

Alura brought her fist up to the wood, careful not to apply too much pressure and send the door flying. It had happened before. Thankfully, the low bang resonated through the air in melodic tones. Kara was probably already aware of her presence, now, it was just a matter of time.

The door opened to a familiar face. Well, the face was familiar to Alura at least. She highly doubted, unless premonitions had been added to Kara’s resume in the last two days, that it was reciprocated.

“Hello?”

Alura tried not to express her excitement, but she had a feeling her bright eyes (inherited from her father), gave it away.

“Um, hi. Yes, hello. My name is Alura, nice to meet you.”

Alura stuck out her hand, like a child greeting the President. Her mouth was twitching now. She couldn’t help it, another side-effect of travelling maybe? Or maybe sheer nervousness? It wasn’t like Alura hadn’t met Kara before, this just felt different.

“Uh, nice to meet you too! Can I help you with something?”

Kara had a jubilance to her tone that made the younger girl comfortable. It carried through her ears and fitted into her soul. Exactly as the sound of home once had.

“Yes. Well, I think so.” Alura dug through her jeans and pulled out a piece of paper from her pocket. “You need to call Mon-El and read this. I should probably be there too. I mean, I don’t have to be, but it would be cool. So yeah, I’ll just wait here?”

Kara must have thought she was crazy. Heck, she thought she was crazy. Who steals a time-ship, jumps back thirty years in the past, only to meet their parents? I mean, Alura was also going to warn them about an impending doom, but that was a side-thought to say the least.

Uncle Winn had told her this would end badly. She remembered it fondly, his small frame leaning over the table in front of her. Winn’s eyes had pieced straight through her that day, right before he had handed her a new suit and wished her luck. He was incapable of scaring anything after all.

“How do you know that name?” Kara questioned Alura, her gaze settling on the crest of El, embroidered onto the breast pocket of her shirt.

Alura hesitated, picking more of the flaky skin off her arm. “Well, I was going to wait until Da- Mon-El got here – but I suppose it can’t wait.”

Kara’s face scrunched up like paper, deepening the lines in between her brows to small valleys.

“Go on.”

“I’m your daughter.”

Kara took a step back. “Sorry, I don’t think I heard that right, I don’t – I don’t have a daughter?”

“Well, sorry, I should have phrased that better,” She tucked her hands behind her back. “I’m not your daughter yet, but I will be. Just wait five years from now, give or take.”

Alura paused, “I probably shouldn’t have told you that.”

Kara was in the process of taking off her glasses when another figure filled Allura’s line of sight. He must have flown through the window but carried no cape behind him.

She knew immediately who it was.

“Hi Mon-El.”

Kara winced, “why don’t you come inside?”


	2. Tap Tap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mon-El has a tell and Alura reflects on the future.

Chapter Two: Tap, tap.

 

Alura had never been inside Kara’s apartment. She had heard of it, sure, but her parents had sold it when they got pregnant with her older brother.  
She would have to tell Luke about it when she got back to the future. Maybe he would feel bad about being born. That wouldn’t bother her too much. 

Ninety-percent of the time he was a pain in the ass after all.

“Kara, are you ok? What’s going on? Winn sent me an alert, I came straight away.”

Kara frowned. Alura wondered what would happen if she cried, would the water run down her face like normal? Or could she freeze it? She had never seen her mum cry before. Back before the Darkness, Kara had been a solider – the only human figure in Earth’s plastic army.

She tried not to scratch her arm, afraid to make a mess.

Out of all of them, Kara should have been the one to shed tears. To drop to her knees and scream at Rao; almost as if she had lost her own Persephone. The world had been her child, her daughter, long before Alura had come along. 

Alura focused her gaze back to her father. His eyes were focused on Kara, laced with sadness, but not devoid of resistance. He was trying not to think about her. He was trying not to fall in love with the woman he was so desperately in love with. 

She knew this history well. Thankfully, she also knew that Mon-El’s pining was short lived – at the end of the day, she had to exist somehow. 

“This is Alura, she may or may not be our daughter from the future,” Kara replied.

Mon-El turned an ironic, slightly amusing, shade of white. 

“That’s impossible. I’m from the future, I would know if I had a daughter.” He looked at Alura, “I also have a wife, who I love. What do you want from us?”

Like every important conversation in her life, Alura had planned this out. She had expected Mon-El to discredit her and then feed Kara lies about Imra. But to her, his tapping gave it away. It was subsonic, so well within the hearing range of Kara, but she didn’t seem to hear it. 

Every two seconds like clockwork, tap - tap. She was used to playing poker with her father, she knew his tell when she saw it. 

“Actually, its very possible. Well, usually its not, but this is a very unusual case,” Alura started. “You are from an artificial timeline, its all messed up and doesn’t make much sense, but long story short – the future actually exists without you in it. The Legion ship triggered it when you got lost in time on your way back to 2018. I didn’t exist in your previous future, but I – well I hope I do – exist in this one.”

Kara made a noise under her breath. It was the same kind of noise that Alura made when she was distressed, like a piglet in a cage. 

“Well if you’re my, our, daughter – why don’t you just prove it? Maybe a birth certificate, or identification?”

Alura could picture Aunty Alex saying those exact words, she’d obvious taught Kara well. 

“How about I pick up the couch, or the coffee table, maybe even the fridge?” Alura tried to reason with her mother, or the younger, more alive version of her, anyway.

“I could burn a hole through something? Did I even mention that I inherited your powers, well now I am, plus the flying – that’s pretty cool.”

Tap – tap – tap.

“Anyone could say that. Kara, I think you should call the police, this girl needs some help.”

He was lying. His jaw was relaxed, the scar above if left eyebrow drawn in close to the centre of his forehead. Alura had always been envious of his eyes, they were the same as hers, but so different at the same time. Mon-El carried a wisdom and depth, like Yoda, or Cat Grant, that she hadn’t quite reached yet.   
But there was still time.

“I’m not sure,” Kara paced around the kitchen, “I feel a connection. I know, it sounds strange, but Alura is Kryptonian, I can feel it.”

Alura interjected, “actually I’m half-Kryptonian and half-Daxamite, but you could probably work that out. I mean, what would you expect if two aliens did the hanky-panky and made –.”

 

“I’m going to stop you there,” Mon-El turned to face Kara, his hands wrapping around her waist, fingers splayed out like they were made to fit. “We need to talk Kara.”

Alura had felt the air change, something static, maybe a message from mind-to-mind had passed through. It reminded her of the standard radiation checks at home. She had felt those particles connect with her on the sub-atomic level, in a way that she could not fight. But, somehow, this wave of cognitive energy felt friendly, like it was delivering a warm embrace and not news of imminent death. 

His jaw lifted, giving way to parted lips that left no room for words. Mon-El’s eyes only spoke of magnetism that connected them. They were the two halves of an attracting force that transcended time itself, and it all made perfect sense.

There was no tapping as he spoke his next words, not a lie laced his voice.

“We have seen things that make no sense and visited worlds that we can’t comprehend. There is no reason why Alura isn’t our daughter.”

Kara took a step back, falling into the grasp of reality.

“What do you mean?”

“Because Imra is no longer my wife.”


End file.
